Fire and Blood
by AfroJedii
Summary: The Master of Death's next great adventure. A dragon of both Targaryen and Stark blood will rise, and with him a new age of chaos and sorcery shall engulf the realm.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own or hold any licensing to Harry Potter or Game of Thrones. Both worlds and characters within belong to their respective authors. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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******Fire and Blood**

******Genre: **Action/Adventure******  
Pairings: **Harry/Daenerys******  
Rating: **M for Mature (17+)******  
Warning: **Strong Violence******  
**Adult Language  
Sexual Content******  
Note: **AU. Alternate Universe  
OOC. Out of Character  
Xover. Crossover

**Prologue**

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It had been sixteen years since the era of Aerys II Targaryen, known more commonly throughout the Seven Kingdoms as the Mad King. His tyrynus rule was brought to an abrubt and swift end however, and he was usurped from the Iron Throne. House Baratheon ruled over the provinces of Westeros upon his death. The ancient city of Kings Landing has known peace for but a few short years.

Power had shifted, and order maintained by two former soldiers and old friends, Ser Eddard Stark, and King of the Iron Throne Robert Baratheon. Once, Eddard Stark was acknowledged by many to be the greater man, but for the last 16 years while Robert kept the peace in the South, Eddard protected the realm from wildlings beyond the Wall in the North.

Eddard "Ned" Stark had grown weary of war and had no taste for politics. He decided to retire from his life as a soldier and instead raise his children and grow old with his wife Catelyn.

His and Robert's rebellion had lost them many dear friends and family, not the least of which was his beloved sister Lyanna. Sixteen long years after the war, it still remained his toughest loss. His friend Robert even more so, in fact. Lyanna held Robert's heart.

Not a day went by that Ned was not hunted by the war. To him, his House had paid the blood price for the role he played in usurping the rightful King to the Iron throne, no matter how mad he had grown in his later years. He could still feel the warm dying breath of sister upon his cheek, as she spoke her final words and gave her final request.

The child she'd bore tucked under her bosom as she looked into her brother's eyes one last time. "Promise me," she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses.

"Promise me, Ned."

The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black.

The war seemed so meaningless in that moment. He wondered why the evils of men brought such unjust pain to ones so innocent. In that moment he knew the fire that fueled his passion for war and honed his martial skills as a soldier, had been succinctly snuffed out.

Ned grabbed the infant from his sister's corpse and finally gazed upon the unlucky child. He was tiny, snugly fitting into the palm of his hand. He gave a grim smile as he looked into the baby's emerald green eyes, for he knew at that the child must not be known to his friend and new King, Robert Baratheon.

He knew Roberts love for his sister was fierce. She was to be his bride. It would come as a heavy blow that she was now dead, but it would also drive him into a fit of rage if he found out that she had also bore another man's child during her capture and imprisonment under Rhaegar Targaryen, one of their sworn enemies.

He was right to fear the actions of his friend. For this time he feared he would not be able to stop a mad king, one who was a dear friend and possibly hell bent on killing a child of his blood.

The little crannogman, Howland Reed, approached Lord Stark breaking him from thought. "What would you have of the boy, my Lord? If King Robert were to hear-"

"Robert is not to hear of this. I will claim this child as my own. Birthed from a low-born Lady whom I had shared a bed. . ." he said, playing all the angles he would need to make the boast nigh infallible.

"But my Lord; Lady Stark will be devastated. To not have one, but two bastard son?"

"She's a strong woman." His tone was final. He would go on with his plan. He would allow no harm to come to the child. It was the dying wish of his sister and hinged on his love and honor of her to obey.

'Welcome to the family Harrison Snow,' he thought with a sad smile.


End file.
